Nine Strange Ways to Bond with Your Uncle
by paynesgrey
Summary: Claire and Peter define abnormal in family bonding. Season 3 Spoilers. Canon Peter x Claire. One-shot.


AN: Spoilers for Season 3. I took some liberties with Peter's powers. Thanks to Frellingblonde for the beta job. This is a one-shot and will not be continued. Written for the "Family Values" theme at pairechallenge on Livejournal.

Nine Strange Ways to Bond with Your Uncle

_I. – Mutilation_

"So, you wanna try it?" she asked, leaning closer to him on the sofa. Angela and the servants were gone, and Claire and Peter decided to hang out in the study. The clock chimed at ten o'clock in the evening, and out of boredom Claire decided to test Peter's powers.

Peter sighed. "I guess." He held out his hand.

The tips of their fingers touched, and Claire saw the draw of power transfer through them. She felt a jolt of energy pass through her body and disappear. She smiled.

"Wow, cool," she said, and Peter looked at his hand curiously.

"Can't you see? It never used to be like that. Huh," he mused.

"Maybe it's different after you used the formula?" Claire offered.

"Maybe," Peter said, but he still had a perplexed look on his face.

Claire stared at him in the silence, and she started to get tired of the ticking of the old clock. She glanced at the one light illuminating the room.

Bouncing next to him, she rested her hands on his chest. "Okay, so let's test your powers!" Peter made a skeptical face, but Claire launched off the sofa anyway and ran for the kitchen. Minutes later she came back and held up a large butcher knife.

Peter tensed against the back of the sofa, and Claire cocked her head with a smile.

"Isn't this a little extreme?" he said. Claire rolled his eyes.

"Oh, Peter, stop it," she said, and she skipped toward him and collapsed onto the sofa. Peter stared at her cautiously as she waved the knife around – the very _large_ knife. It was frightening and awe-inspiring how little Claire cared about her own safety.

"Now hold out your arm," she commanded.

"Claire," Peter began.

"Just do it!" She almost yanked his arm out of his socket, and she as brought the knife down, he shrieked after she quickly slashed him. They both watched in relief as the wound started to close up.

Peter blew out a breath. "So I have your power back for now. Experiment over."

Claire gave him an even wider grin. "Not so fast." She leaned in closer to him, too close for a niece to get to her uncle. "Let's try a finger."

Peter leaned away from her and gave her a wilted look.

--

_II. - Teleportation_

"Who's that?" Claire asked, and the two of them crouched behind the trees as Homeland Security began loading Specials in orange jumpsuits into a van. They'd been following them closely lately, trying to warn people before they were captured. In this instance they were too late.

"That woman there is Talia Patterson. I overhead someone say she had teleportation powers," Peter whispered.

Claire nodded. "So, are we going to bust them loose?"

Peter turned to her and smiled mischievously. "You had to ask? What better way to bond as family than throw a wrench into Nathan's plans?"

Claire rolled her eyes, but she couldn't hold back the grin. "You know normal bonding between uncles and nieces happens at the roller rink or an ice cream shop," she said sarcastically.

Peter gave her a crooked grin. "Well, we're not like normal uncles and nieces," Peter answered, and Claire silently agreed. She could feel him tense and get ready to lunge toward the van. He shot her a signal and took off, and Claire ran a few paces behind him.

Suddenly, a Homeland Security agent lunged after her as she distracted them from Peter. Peter rushed toward the van, and he roughed up the driver and sentries before swinging open the back door.

He leapt inside and started releasing people as Claire took care of the rest of the men outside. A few minutes passed, and Peter jumped out as the freed prisoners exited behind him. He jogged up to Claire with exhilaration, and she mirrored his excitement. Peter looked at the unconscious men on the ground. Claire popped back her shoulder in place and beamed up at him.

"Nice work," he complimented, and Claire giggled.

"Thank you," she said in mock modesty. "Now where to next?"

Peter clamped a hand on her shoulder and leaned his lips to her ear. He whispered, "Back to New York. I got some new information."

Claire grinned at him when she knew the drill. Now Peter could teleport. She looked at his hand and then back to his face. "Be gentle with me, alright? I don't want to lose my head in some unknown dimension."

"Don't worry," he said smoothly, as he reached out a finger and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'd never lose you." Then, they blinked through space.

--

_III. – Grocery Shopping_

"I can't believe that Angela sent us grocery shopping," Claire complained. "People are living in fear and need our help, and she sends us for…" Claire groaned in exasperation as she looked at the list. "Eggs and avocados? What the hell? God, I hope she's not pregnant."

Peter shot her a wry look. "Don't even think of such a thing." He rubbed his temple. "Ugh, too late; I already got the image."

"Look, this is ridiculous. You know she's distracting us." Claire moved closer to him, and she lowered her voice. "She's up to something."

Peter rolled his eyes. "She's not planning something. Why do you always think that?"

Claire pursed her lips. "Because she is. Listen, I heard her on the phone the other day. She's making a dinner for us and Nathan."

"So?" Peter asked.

"We're not on good terms with Nathan, remember? Hello? He's rounding up our kind!" she hissed, and then looked around hoping no one had heard her.

"Look, we've called a truce with Nathan, and I believe he'll keep his word. I just need to talk to him and get him to stop this insanity," Peter said, and Claire sneered at him.

"There you go again, defending him! As if he hadn't proven to be untrustworthy so many times!" Claire ranted. "I will never understand your faith in him."

"He's my brother," Peter said sternly.

"Lyle is my brother but I don't trust the little turd with the fate of the world. Look, my point is, after all that Nathan has done, you really believe you can convince him to change his mind?" Claire asked, and she crossed her arms in contempt.

"I do," Peter said finally.

Claire through up her arms and cried in exasperation. "I give up!"

"If it were you, I'd still give you a second chance, even a third," Peter said, still arguing his point.

Claire stilled for a moment, and her mood changed. She stared at the floor pensively, unable to come up with a reply.

"I know," she said. "I just… I would hope that even with me, there'd come a point where you'd give up and know I couldn't be reached."

Peter walked over to her and squeezed her arms, and he met her dejected gaze. "I couldn't. Besides, you're not like Nathan. You're good, Claire, and I told you I'd make sure you stayed that way."

Claire smiled and blinked away the forming tears. She inhaled heavily and nodded. "Okay," she said, giving in to him. She truly trusted Peter, and she really had no other choice.

She leaned her head down and nuzzled his forehead. He smiled as she relented. "Let's get these stupid groceries."

Hand in hand, they turned around and walked down the aisle of the store.

--

_IV. – Getting a Tattoo_

"I'm telling you it won't stick," Claire said adamantly. She tore her eyes from the tattoo artist and pouted at Peter. "It won't take in my skin. My healing ability will make it disappear."

Peter watched her with amusement. "You never know until you try."

The artist, another Special like them, nodded in agreement. He was letting Claire get a tattoo on the house for saving him from the Hunter.

"Well, according to Jake here, if you don't like it, he can take it away. That's his ability."

Claire's frown intensified. "I don't know." She looked pleadingly at her uncle. "You do it?"

Peter shook his head. "He won't let me. Besides, Jake is an artist. Don't insult him by having him trade off his powers to me."

Claire snorted. "Fine, but you have to get one too."

Peter grinned and gave into her request. "Fine. I'll get one too. Now what are you going to get?"

Claire smiled wickedly. "I want a cute teddy bear, and etched in his belly, I want a heart that says Peter."

Peter furrowed his brow. "That sounds stupid."

She stuck her tongue at him. "I didn't ask you. Anyway, if I don't like it, he can take it off. Isn't that right?"

Jake nodded. "Normally, I'd charge you an extra twenty, but for your two kids it's still free."

"Okay, let's do this." She held out her arm and flashed her bicep. "Right there."

Jake turned to Peter, who just shrugged. "Okay, doll, it's your body."

Then, the room got quiet, and Jake lifted his hand over Claire's arm. He closed his eyes, and in a quick motion, his ability transferred an image onto Claire's arm. Claire gaped. So it was true. Some powers were more passive than others. Such a power could never be used in a fight.

But it was still cool. "Wow…it looks…" She stopped suddenly as the ink in her arm began to fade away. "Damn it!"

Peter whistled. "Looks like you were right. Tattoos cannot stay on your skin."

Jake was still staring at the unmarred skin with awe. "Never seen that happen before."

"I wonder if the ink is some kind of intruder that my body tries to heal."

"Hrmm…" Peter scratched his chin. "Jake, try the tattoo again." The artist cocked his head curiously and just shrugged. Peter turned to Claire. "Now Claire when the image is on your arm, try concentrating with your ability to keep in there. When it starts to fade, somehow tell your brain that you wish to keep it."

"How do I do that, genius?" she asked condescendingly.

"I don't know! Just try it," he said confidently. Claire clucked her tongue in annoyance but agreed. Jake displayed his ability again, and Claire stared at it, trying to make it stick.

When the art tried to fade, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then relaxed. She opened her eyes, and the tattoo was still there. She squeaked in celebration. "It worked!"

Peter smiled. "I knew it would."

Claire grinned up at him. "Now, it's your turn."

Peter's smile instantly disappeared. "Uh…Don't you want to change yours first?" He stared down at the cute teddy bear that displayed his name.

Claire lifted her chin with a challenging expression. "I think I'll keep it for now. If I don't want it, I can always have it go away."

Peter bit his lip, and she watched him anxiously. "So?"

"Fine," he spat. They changed spots, and Peter settled into the chair. Claire stared at him with a wicked grin.

"So what are you going to get, pretty boy?" Jake asked him, and the man no longer seemed to tolerate their antics. He gave Peter a tired look.

"Ugh… whatever. A skull or a snake maybe?" Peter answered. The tattoo artist sighed as Claire cackled loudly.

"Oh my God, Peter, that is _so_ stupid."

--

_V. – Drawing the Future_

"Hey, what are you doing in here?" Claire poked her head through Peter's room and found him lounging on his bed sketching in an art pad.

"I saw Parkman today, so I thought I'd do some drawing to help us against Nathan and the Hunter." He held up his hand with a smile. "So far nothing. I wonder if I really got his ability."

"I thought he was a telepath. He can still draw the future?" She scrunched her brow in confusion. "That's so weird. How'd that happen?"

"I'm not sure, but apparently he hasn't been doing it much either. I wonder if it only happens when he really needs it."

"And you're saying we don't need those powers now?" Claire said. "Peter, your brother is still rounding up Special people. He's doing it more covertly, and we haven't been able to find a lot of people, not to mention this Hunter guy has made it more difficult. What could be more important than finding a way to predict what comes next?"

Peter looked perturbed. "Claire, I know that. It's just that when I stare at this blank paper, all I can think about drawing is…" His voice trailed off.

"What?"

Peter's voice had an angry edge to it. "All I want to draw is _you_." He turned his face awkwardly away from her stunned expression. "I don't know why."

"Well… Maybe you're supposed to draw me," she encouraged. Peter nodded.

"Okay," he said. He turned away and stared at the blank piece of paper. When his eyes turned white, Claire gasped and watched the pencil frenetically cascade across the page. She leaned in and looked with surprise at what was being drawn.

"That's… that's me," she whispered, and Peter came out of his daze. He shook his head, and he regained his senses. He inspected his drawing with shock.

Quickly, he met her eyes. "That's us," he said.

Claire reached out and put her hand over his. She looked into his eyes with desperation. "How did you know about this?" she half-demanded. There was not only surprise in her voice but fear.

"I…I didn't," Peter stuttered. "Claire, what is it?"

She tried to pull away her hand, but he wouldn't let her. His skin felt soft, as it always did against hers.

"It's… it's like you were right in my head, plucking out my dreams," she said in one rushed breath.

"Dreams… you dreamed of this… of us?" Peter turned pale.

"Not just dreams, Peter, thoughts – thoughts I didn't want you ever to know about," she said. She pulled her hands away from his and started to leave the room. "I'm sorry."

She ran out, and he held out his hand to her. "Claire, wait! We can talk about this."

He got up from the bed, only to hear the front door slam as Claire ran away. He pounded his fist on the doorframe. Returning to the sketchbook, he looked at it with pity.

"Parkman, what really are your powers?" Peter said through gritted teeth. He slammed the sketchbook down on the floor, mindful to kick it under the bed for no one to see.

"Claire…" And all he could think about now was where to find her.

--

_VI. – Holiday Drinking_

Claire threw back her head, and she let the liquor burn down her throat. She smacked her lips and licked the remnants off her mouth. "Ah, that's the stuff."

Peter glared at her. "You shouldn't be drinking. You're only 18." He sipped his own drink, and Claire snorted. "I shouldn't be drinking with you. You're a minor."

"Shut up, Peter," she said, pouring herself another shot. "I can't believe the whole family is here. Nathan and Heidi, even the boys. Did you know they called me big sister?" She waved an empty shot glass at him. "It totally freaked me out!"

"Why? You _are_ their sister," Peter said, taking another sip. He looked at Claire, but he didn't like how she was starting to look to him. She was dressed too provocative in a red Christmas dress, and she had pulled her stockings off, so she rested her bare feet and calves over his legs. They lounged on the couch in the spare room upstairs, and they continued to empty out Nathan's old liquor stash.

"I know, but it's weird. I didn't grow up with them. Besides, it's even weirder when they call you Uncle Peter. It's like they're hitting me over the head with a brick," she said, abandoning the small shot glass for a high ball. She filled it with ice and poured Amaretto to the top.

"Claire, we've already… discussed this. We've discussed the drawings I did. I really don't know what else to tell you," he said.

"Nothing," she said bitterly. "You can tell me absolutely nothing." The Amaretto in her glass was already half-way gone. "Christmas sucks," she complained.

"Hey, take it easy," he said, pulling her drink from her hand. He leaned in and cupped her cheek. "It's gonna be okay."

She put her hand over his. She closed her eyes, and she let out a small sob. "I hate this. I hate not being normal. I hate having feelings for someone I can never have. I hate this family…"

She cried, but she reached out and pulled her drink out of his grip. She downed the rest of the liquor and then slammed the high ball onto the small table beside them. Peter felt her weight shift on the couch, and she stood up, picking up her shoes.

"Where are you going?" He stood up to follow her to the door.

"I don't know. Out for a walk maybe?" Claire snarled.

"But it's Christmas," Peter said. "And we're in New York, so it's too cold out there."

"It's not like I'll freeze to death," she pointed out.

He stepped forward and touched her arm lightly. "Stay here."

Claire turned around, and he locked eyes with her. "Why?"

"Because I want to spend Christmas with you," he said. "We've never spent Christmas together. Things have calmed down. Nathan's operation failed, and here we are…free. Free to spend Christmas without any fighting or running."

She turned around and leaned against the door frame. She sighed heavily and looked away from his piecing gaze. "Alright, fine, I'll stay." She glared at him. "But you can't stop me from drinking."

Peter beckoned her back to the couch. "I need someone to drink with. It's not like I want to go downstairs and be with our annoying family either." He sat down on the couch and filled up her glass with Amaretto again. He topped off his own drink with more rum and held out hers. "Cheers?"

Slowly, she made her way back over and flashed him a sad smile. She took her glass and clanked it with his.

"Now, as long as we're being honest, Claire. There's something I have to tell you," Peter said. Claire swallowed hard, and she looked at her uncle with surprise.

The expression on his flushed face spoke more than words ever could.

--

_VII. – Making Excuses_

"Okay, so we tell her it's like we're at the zoo…" Claire said, pacing the room.

Peter lifted his head up from the table and was instantly taken aback, "What?"

"You know, when you're at the zoo, and you see how cute the polar bears are, but you know if you got close to one of them they'd rip your head off in a second. That's kind of how we are. We can look but we can't touch…"

"…or we get our heads ripped off?" Peter droned sardonically.

"Exactly. And when Angela comes in, I'll tell her that," Claire said, nodding vigilantly.

"Ugh, I think you should just let me handle this," Peter said waving her off.

Claire jumped at a sound behind her, and saw Angela sliding open the glass door to enter the study. She glared at them both. Peter's face looked impassive, but Claire couldn't control her emotions. Peter turned to her with a warning look.

"Well, you both know why I'm here," Angela said, and Claire and Peter took a seat at the dining table when she did. She stared at them from the other side. Claire hated how intimidating she could be. Her powers only saw into the future. How scary was that? However, she knew Angela was scary all on her own without her power.

"You know, it's really not fair that you can see into the future," Claire blurted. "I think Peter and I have been holding up pretty well."

Angela shot her cold glare.

"Mom, look, Claire and I talked about this, so whatever you think has happened or will happen, it hasn't… and it won't. I can take care of this." Peter turned to Claire. "We both can."

Angela let out an annoyed sigh. "Oh Peter, I know you. You wear your heart on your sleeve, and you have the tendency to justify anything you're feeling." She turned to Claire. "And you are just a child."

Claire opened her mouth to protest, but Angela stopped her. "I know this family has its secrets. It has its dark moments, but this is beyond anything that is acceptable. We may not be perfect, but we have values, and your relationship must stay as it is meant to be – as family only."

"We know that," Claire snapped at her, and Peter turned to her with another hard look.

"Look there has to be a way for you to trust us," Peter said diplomatically.

"Yeah, we're not going to let it happen. I'll go to college like you want, and Peter can go back into his work. He can move out, and we can see each other only once in awhile," Claire suggested, but Angela's stone face did not change. She was hardly impressed by words. "We can work it out. It _won't_ happen," Claire stressed.

"Well Claire, the future says otherwise," Angela said, lacing her fingers together. She lifted her chin and scrutinized them both.

"The future can change, Mom," Peter said in a low voice. "Please, just trust us."

Angela suddenly stood up from her seat. "I wish I could believe you both, but I can't." Angela began to pace the room. "Claire, I made arrangements with Matt and Daphne Parkman for a teaching position in their new school for Specials. They're starting it in upstate Vermont. You'll start in one week, and you'll teach agility training."

Claire looked at her stunned. "So you're kicking me out?" She turned to Peter worriedly. "Don't I get a say in this?"

Angela looked to Peter and then to her. "No. Peter will go on with his job, and you will be better off with the Parkmans. Their facility needs people like you Claire. This is an opportunity to do something good with your power."

Claire slunk in her chair dejectedly. "I see." She definitely could not argue with that, but that didn't mean she wouldn't miss Peter or be anywhere close to him.

"Now, it's settled. Start packing your things and get ready to say your goodbyes." Angela turned toward the door. She turned around and shot them a piercing stare. "And don't think about running away because I've dreamt of that possibility too."

Claire pouted and nodded, turning away from both Angela and Peter's eyes. "Alright," she agreed.

Angela seemed satisfied for the moment and she took her leave. Peter turned to Claire.

"I'm sorry it has to be this way. Maybe you don't have to go," Peter said. Claire couldn't believe he had some false hope they could change Angela's mind.

"No, she's right," Claire said, lifting her head high in resolution. "I should do this."

Peter backed off, but she could see he sensed the uncertainty that clouded around her.

--

_VIII. – Time Travel_

"So, this is your last day living in the Petrelli mansion," Peter said, stopping at her bedroom door. He glanced at all her packed bags and boxes.

Claire sighed. "Yep, I'm a big girl now. Off to leave the nest." She snorted and started pulling the pictures off the wall and neatly tucking them away in an open box.

Silence hovered between them, and finally Claire heard Peter's voice as she turned her back to him. "I have some good news." She sensed the excitement in his tone.

She turned around. "Oh? Please tell me they're transferring you to Vermont," she joked. Peter shook his head.

"No, I saw Hiro Nakamura in New York. We met up, and I found out he got his powers back," Peter said as he grinned widely.

Claire dropped the things in her box and moved to him with shock. "No way, so does that mean you can…"

Peter nodded in elation. Claire smiled. "So you can 'pop' here and there… anywhere?"

"And I was thinking about taking you somewhere before you go," Peter said, crossing his arms and watching the emotions across her face.

"Where?" Claire asked.

"Anywhere you want to go," Peter said. "In time."

"But wouldn't that mess up the time line?" Claire asked hesitantly.

"Not if we don't screw anything up. Trust me; I've done enough of that for one lifetime." Peter paused when he watched Claire's hope soar. "We can stay out of the way and experience history."

"But why do you want to take me back in time?" Claire asked skeptically. "Shouldn't we only use it for important situations? It seems like a power that can be abused too much."

Peter nodded. "It is, but I think this _is_ an important situation," Peter said, and his excitement had transformed into something else. Claire's smile disappeared.

"What are you thinking?" Claire asked suspiciously.

Peter watched her sternly. "Don't go to Vermont, Claire," he said simply.

Claire turned away. "You know I have to." She nervously played with the sleeves of her shirt. "It's best for both of us. Angela has seen our future, and you and I both know she's right."

"I've been thinking about that," Peter said brightly. "Why do we have to do what others tell us to do?"

Claire snapped her attention back to him, and he stepped back when he met her fiery eyes.

"You're the one who trusts Nathan so much because he's you're brother. You're the one who would do anything for this family. And now you want to go back on all of that and just throw caution to the wind? I don't think you know what you're saying anymore," Claire fumed at him.

"But this is important to me. This is important to both of us. It's because we are family that I have to do this," Peter said. He walked toward her and she felt his hands around her arms again. "Claire, you're the one who said you loved me since the moment you saw me. It took me awhile, but I realized after much denial that I felt the same. We have a connection, a destiny, and every day and every month, we interlock together."

"Because we're family," Claire spoke softly.

"Yes, but there's so much more, and you know it." Peter stopped, and she felt him draw her into his arms. "Come on, where do you want to go in time? I promise we won't be there long enough to disrupt anything."

Claire didn't answer him right away and silence seemed to umbrella them.

"Okay, let's go," she said, and she turned around and met his eyes. She held onto his arms as he held onto her. "Let's go back to the day where we first met."

Peter studied her for a moment, but soon he understood.

He pulled her closer to his chest, and he closed his eyes. "It will only be for a moment," he whispered.

In an instant they were back in a familiar place, as if they had rewound their memory on an old VHS tape. Claire and Peter ducked inside a classroom, and through a small window, they watched as a younger Peter wandered down the empty classroom halls, staring at the inside of the trophy case.

The moment the past-Peter turned around and bumped into the past-Claire, she heard Peter gasp. Claire tightened her grip around his shirt and buried her face into his chest.

He held her as she sighed, and when the action of blood and fate unfolded before their eyes within the shadows, they held each other even closer. In a darkened classroom within the past, Claire pulled away from Peter and looked up into his face, painted with so many vast emotions.

And in those unseen far gone moments of the past, Claire felt Peter's face descend upon hers as he captured her for a serendipitous kiss.

Then, as she felt him delve deeper within her, Claire understood what Peter meant – that some things went beyond upholding the laws of family.

--

_IX. – Leaving Town_

Her first month teaching agility class was brutal, and Claire was convinced that her students were not only Specials, but also spawns of Satan. She yawned loudly as she made her way down the faculty living quarters toward her room. She looked around, and after only being here for six weeks, she was still in awe of the place that Matt and Daphne had constructed. She couldn't even believe where they got the loot to even build this place. When she heard Petrelli and Nakamura money were involved, however, she didn't feel so surprised.

Still, it was quite a huge undertaking.

She blinked away her thoughts when she heard her name called down the hall, and she turned to the source. It was Micah Sanders, who was probably one of her best students. He was more of a mental Special, so she could tell he enjoyed the change of pace in her agility and physical education class.

"Ms. Bennet, Mrs. Parkman said there's someone waiting for you at the front door. He says he's family," he told her.

Claire groaned. She smiled weakly at Micah and then thanked him before he whisked away back toward the computer room.

It was probably Lyle again. The bonehead was staying in town for a couple weeks while her adopted family visited. They were anxious to hear about her new teaching job, and they felt they would take a little vacation. Her dad had even come too, taking some time off from his newly revised Homeland Security position. However, since her mom and dad were getting some quality time together, Lyle usually left the lovebirds alone so he could bug her, only to whine about how gross their parents were acting. As if she wanted to hear that after dealing with devil children all day long!

She stomped toward the front stoop ready to tear Lyle a new one when she stalled in her tracks. "Peter?"

"Hey," he said simply, flashing her that familiar smile in which she could never get enough. "How are classes?"

"Um… well, good I guess. If kids are actually supposed to act like monsters," she joked to lighten the mood. She felt awkward, especially after the way she had left him. "What are you doing here?" she asked, almost like an accusation.

Peter sighed and he looked around the boarding house. "I came to see how you were doing." He met her stare. "I missed you."

"Peter, look, I know we didn't leave on good terms, but you know why I took this job anyway. What happened in the past…"

"Claire, I've been thinking," he interrupted. "I think we're going about this the wrong way."

"Oh?" She crossed her arms. "So what's your brilliant idea?"

"Well, it's obvious you hate it here." She snorted, and he smiled at her reaction. "And my job as a paramedic isn't working out."

"Why not?"

Peter smiled sadly as he looked to the floor. "I can't save everyone, and it's killing me. I couldn't do it anymore, so I left. I'm doing something else now." He met her eyes again with confidence. "I'm doing something where I can truly save everyone."

Claire frowned; she really didn't understand.

Peter started pacing in front of the door. He scratched the back of his neck and sighed. "Mohinder has a little organization too. It's like the mission of this school, only it's international. I'll be recruiting young Specials, and then Mohinder and I are going to lobby international governments to set up programs like this one in their own countries."

"Sort of like the Specials exchange program," Claire said. Her tone softened. "Sounds great."

"It is. There's a lot of flexibility." His smile grew wider. "Come with me."

"But… my students…"

"I've talked to Matt and Daphne. They know I'm here to offer you the job." Peter stepped closer to her. "Claire, I want you to do this with me. You're the only one I can really work with. You understand me, and I know you want to more actively help others like us, rather than being cooped up here teaching kids who will never understand your talents."

Claire bit her lip, and she darted her head around as she mulled over a decision.

"I'm worried about us, Peter," Claire said truthfully. "How can you guarantee that what we did in that classroom doesn't happen again?"

"I can't," he said finally. Claire turned away from him and felt a shiver, and Peter continued, "But I don't care about that anymore. There are more important things in this world than worrying about us being family."

Claire watched him and felt his determination. "I can't help how I feel about you," she mumbled.

"I know."

She stared at the floor and sighed. "Alright, Peter. We'll try to work it out."

Suddenly, the mood of the empty front lobby changed and felt warmer. Peter beamed at her.

"Okay. Go get packed," Peter said. Claire nodded, and he turned to follow her as she made her way back to her room.

Peter watched her pause momentarily, and she turned around and rushed toward him. He took her into his arms and smoothed his fingers through her hair.

"Claire," he said, and there was hope in his voice. Claire snuggled against him, and for the first time in a long while, Claire allowed herself to smile. Peter chuckled at her happiness. "Come on, I'll help you pack. We can get out of here before morning."

Claire broke from his embrace and sighed. "You know, I feel kind of bad about Angela."

Peter frowned. "Why do you say that?"

Claire snaked an arm around him as they walked side by side down the hall. "Well, she knew this was going to happen. She warned us, and yet, here we are." Peter nodded ruefully, yet Claire seemed jovial despite her words.

Finally, she added, "But it's still really annoying when she's right."

END


End file.
